


Brand New Day

by Casey_K



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Reality, M/M, Parallel Universes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-28
Updated: 2017-12-04
Packaged: 2019-02-08 00:00:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12852336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Casey_K/pseuds/Casey_K
Summary: Stiles wakes up in a very different world than the one he remembers falling asleep in, with his unrequited crush snuggled against him, people missing, and others...well, let's just say he's not 100% sure he wants to find out what's happened, or that he wants to go back to his own reality.





	1. Well, That's Different.

**Author's Note:**

> My first published Teen Wolf fanfic, though feel free to enjoy my various McDanno contributions :P.  
> If you enjoy it, let me know and I'll post more chapters, and maybe some of the other threads from this Fandom.
> 
> Do not own the characters.  
> Not Beta'd.

Heat. As Stiles came to from what had been a pretty decent sleep, he became aware of heat—a huge slab of heat—pressed along his back. He wondered briefly why it felt like a person, whether Scott had stayed over but sneaked into the bed during the night for extra comfort. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time. And then the heat snuggled in, arms wrapped around him and there was morning wood-- _holy fucking shit_ \--pressing insistently between his ass cheeks. Kisses pressed over his neck, up to his ear…whatever he’d been up to last night, it must have been a hell of a party. 

“You smell funny.” No sooner than the words flowed over his skin than Stiles froze. Derek. “Don’t be mad,” Derek crooned, snuggling impossibly closer. “I know I promised I’d leave before morning, but you’re always so horny when you wake up and I don’t like to miss it.” Derek pulled him over on to his back and grinned briefly at him before trailing kisses over Stiles chest— _naked chest, sudden awareness of full nudity, holy fucking god_ \--stopping at a nipple to tease with tongue and teeth. 

“What the hell, Derek?” Stiles finally squeaked.

Derek’s hand swept over Stiles stomach, hips, thighs, and back to rest on his hip. He shuffled until he was settled between Stiles thighs, pushing himself down until his head rested on Stiles stomach. “Are you saying you want me to stop?” Derek licked over Stiles hip bone, nudged at his already hard cock. “I thought you’d want me to deal with this before you leave for school.”

“Deal with…oh, god.” Stiles head dropped back to the pillow as Derek’s lips slipped over the head of Stiles cock and sucked. “I’m obviously dreaming, I should just enjoy it.” And enjoy it he did, albeit very briefly. Derek swallowed every last drop, licked, and nuzzled Stiles clean, and Stiles could only watch in disbelief at the strange turn his life had taken. Derek chuckled—another sign the world wasn’t right—and crawled up over Stiles body to plant a kiss, deep and dirty, against his lips. It took a moment, but after a guilty ‘what the hell’ in his head, Stiles kissed back, letting one hand sneak into Derek’s hair and the other to roam over his hard, naked ass. 

“Mmm, more like it.” Derek practically purred into Stiles mouth. “You should get in the shower. You know how Scott hates you turning up smelling of sex. And you seriously smell of sex.” Derek rolled to Stiles' side and gave him a shove. “Come on, up and out, before your father comes looking for you.”

Stiles staggered numbly to the shower. Did he have amnesia? Had he lost weeks, months, of his life? Derek was asleep by the time Stiles made it back to his room so he dressed, grabbing the shirt draped over the back of his chair when he couldn't find one in his closet and left, deciding it was better to leave the weirdness behind and get on with his day. Scott would know what was going on. Maybe.

 

“Stiles, hey,” Scott called from across the lot. He jogged over to Stiles. “Dude, what the hell are you wearing?”

Stiles looked down at his regulation tee and plaid shirt. “Same as I always do.”

“You haven’t dressed like that in years, man. What happened to your sense of style? Hey, anyway, you want to hit Jungle with me and Isaac tonight?”

“Jungle? Never mind, listen, I had such a weird morning I can’t decide whether I’m actually still asleep.” Scott laughed and slapped him on the back. “I’m serious. I woke up with Derek in my bed and he proceeded to—”

“Stop.” Scott stiffened and dropped the arm from around Stiles shoulder. “You know I don’t like details of what you two get up to.” His voice was stern, and more than a little pissed. “Besides, you guys should really go careful. One of these days your dad is going to catch you out and you know he’ll be pissed. He may be cool with you dating an older guy but you know he’s worried someone at the station will find out you’re having illegal sex in his house. He’d have to arrest Derek, man. You know he doesn’t want that.” Scott continued to look serious for at least another second before breaking into a grin. “I gotta go. Isaac will be here already.”

“Isaac? What about Alison?”

Scott screwed up his face. “Who’s Alison? Okay, going. See you later. Oh, if you see Danny tell him, I don’t know what he did last night, but Lydia is not happy.” Stiles could only stare as his best friend scooted off. He watched until Scott caught up with Isaac, jumping him from behind, and landing a big, soppy kiss on the side of his neck. Isaac swung Scott around and they proceeded to play kissy face until someone shouted for them to get a room. 

This was serious. Stiles had woken up in a different life—a different world. Hell, he didn’t even know what class he should be going to. There was only one thing for it. He turned on his heels, headed back to his trusty jeep and went home. 

He sighed as he closed the front door behind him. Hopefully there wasn’t still a hunk of werewolf in his bed because, yeah, that would be totally awkward. He was still processing the realisation there had been an unfamiliar car on the drive, when a noise from the kitchen caught his attention. He paused, trying to decide whether to run, or call his dad, when he heard a voice that turned his blood to ice.

“Stiles? Is that you, honey?”

His backpack hit the ground with a thud, and his heart hammered in his chest. “Mom?”


	2. From Weird to Wonderful

“Stiles? Is that you, honey?”

His backpack hit the ground with a thud, and his heart hammered in his chest. “Mom?”

"Of course, silly. Who else would it be?" She peeked around the door frame, wiping her hands in a tea towel, her wavy hair falling around her face, and huffed. "What on earth are you wearing?” She frowned. “Did you let Derek sleep over again? You know it makes your dad uncomfortable. Stiles, you aren't eighteen for another month."

Stiles rushed her, hugging for all he was worth, taking in her scent, and the softness he'd missed so much. He was too afraid to think about how this was possible, whether it was real, or whether he had finally succumbed to all the crazy in his life and had a complete break from reality. He stifled a sob, and blinked away the tears threatening to fall.

"Hey, come on now, what on earth is wrong?"

"I just...” He scrubbed one hand over his face, trying to pull himself together. “I just missed you." 

She chuckled. “Since last night?”

“Since last night.” _Since forever._ He couldn't let go, even when she wriggled to get away from him. He didn't know what had happened to him while he was sleeping, but with this revelation, well, he was ready to consider rolling with it and sticking around. Part of him knew how much he missed her, but he couldn’t really quantify it until this moment, and how somehow breathing was just easier with her here.

“Stiles?” Stiles looked over his shoulder, still not letting go of his mom, to see Derek, sleep rumpled and looking confused as he walked down the stairs. “I…I wasn’t sure it was you.” He gave an exaggerated sniff. “You still smell different. Is something wrong? You don’t seem to be sick.” After another moment, he looked to Stiles’ mom and smiled sheepishly. “Morning, Mrs. S.”

“Okay, Stiles, come on, let go of me now.” His mom broke free, taking advantage of his distraction with Derek, and disappearing back into the kitchen. “And Derek,” she called back, “you are going to give John a pulmonary if you keep sneaking in here at night.”

Derek took the place Stiles’ mom had just vacated and gave Stiles a hug, sniffing carefully along his neck and shoulders. “I know,” he said. “I’m sorry. I wish I could say it won’t happen again, but you know I don’t like to lie to you.” Stiles heard his mom laugh, and Derek nuzzled into Stiles neck. Derek. Adonis of the totally chiselled, freakishly handsome, supernatural Alpha, Derek. Stiles tried to hug back, he did, but it was so…strange, so ‘out there’, he felt more like a fish flapping around in Derek’s arms. “Seriously, Stiles. What’s wrong, and why on earth are you wearing that shirt? I thought we retired it to the back of your chair a year ago.”

“Something,” Stiles spluttered. “Nothing…wrong, exactly. Just different, kinda. And since when has everybody been so concerned about what I wear?”

Derek laughed. “Stiles, you’re the one who is always concerned with what you wear. I can’t remember the last time I saw you in something that wasn’t skin tight, and totally stylish.”

Stiles pulled on his t-shirt. That explained why he felt as though the tee he’d pulled on this morning had shrunk in the wash. And why his beloved plaid was missing from his wardrobe. “You mean I don’t wear shirts anymore? But they’re so comfortable.”

“Okay, now you’re scaring me. Who are you and what have you done with my Stiles.” Derek laughed, but then looked serious. “Wait, different how?”

“What?” Stiles was still pulling at his shirt and wondering what kind of Stiles he was if he didn’t wear plaid, and whether he ought to be worried that he seemed to be taking all of this a bit too well.

“You said something was different. What’s going on?”

Stiles took a deep breath. It was no good, he was going to have to come clean. He had no idea who he was supposed to be with these people, his earlier thought of winging it until things settled into some kind of normal, or ‘heaven-forbid-please-god-let-him-keep-his-mom-and-Derek’ he turned around and ended up back in his own version of the world, was just not going to be an option. Especially when your boyfriend had super senses, and could hear when you were stretching the truth. “Okay. I think you need to sit down for this one. I definitely need to sit down.” Stiles pulled away and headed for the kitchen. “And coffee, I need lots and lots of very strong coffee.”


	3. In My World...

Several mugs of coffee and an hour later, Derek looked even more confused than he had half an hour before. “So, you’re saying we aren’t even friends?”

Stiles wanted to tear his hair out. Both Derek and his Mom were having trouble following his explanation of the alternate world he remembered as the real one. He got it to a degree, I mean, how often does your teenage son wake up and tell you that yesterday you’d been dead for the best part of a decade. He totally got it. But he was reaching the point where he just needed them to say ‘okay, lets decide what we need to do about this’. The look on Derek’s face told him he had a long way to go before he reached that place. “We’re friends,” he said for about the fourth time. “We just aren’t, you know, _boyfriends_.”

“But you let me…ow.” Derek rubbed his shin where Stiles had kicked him under the table. 

“Parent present,” Stiles said, by way of explanation. Derek glared at him. “Now, that…that right there is the Derek I’m used to. Glary-eyed, demon eyebrows Derek.”

“Okay, let me rephrase,” Derek said with obvious enforced patience. “You didn’t seem surprised to find me in your bed this morning.”

“Actually, if you think back, I was very surprised.” He had been surprised. He had even thought about stopping Derek, but, you know, what’s the point of cock-blocking yourself in what is obviously a dream, right? Even if he was feeling guilty for taking advantage of super-sweet alternate Derek.

“Not enough to stop me,” Derek put up his hand, possibly to prevent another kick, “cuddling you.”

“Yeah, well, let’s just say it was a case of wish fulfilment fantasy on my part.” Derek’s brow crinkled. “Jeez, you’re dumb in this world.”

“Stiles,” his mom chipped in. “That wasn’t nice.” 

“Sorry, mom. Look,” Stiles said, taking hold of Derek’s hand. “We weren’t together in my world, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t want to be. You just…didn’t think of me that way, I guess. Or maybe you just didn’t want to get bogged down, I mean, you were different.” _So, so, so, different._

“Different, how?”

“Broody, dark, bitter, I don’t know. We had chemistry, for sure. The guys were always ribbing me about it.”

“Guys?” Derek stiffened, gripping Stiles’ hand. “What guys?”

“The pack. Wait, we’re still part of a werewolf pack, right?” Stiles glanced nervously at his mom.

“Don’t look at me,” she said. “I don’t even exist in your world.”

“Oh, come on,” Stiles said, “You make it sound as though it was my choice you died.” 

“I just think maybe what we really need is a trip to the doctor.”

She had a point, but it couldn’t be that simple. “I’m physically fine. Derek, there must be some kind of spell, or magic, that can make this happen.”

“Who exactly do you think is in this werewolf pack?” he said, ignoring Stiles’ comment about magic.

“Who?” Stiles stalled. “Oh, my god, Derek, are your family still alive?”

“My family?”

It couldn’t be, could it? Surely they couldn’t both have their deepest darkest pain erased overnight? “In my world the Hale house burned to the ground. Your family were trapped inside.” Derek looked horrified, though Stiles couldn’t figure out whether it was from hearing him talk about the tragedy so matter-of-factly, or that it just hadn’t happened.

“My house did burn down, but the only people caught inside were the hunters who set the fire. My family escaped through the underground tunnel system that leads out of the basement.”

Stiles threw his arms around Derek’s shoulders and squeezed. “Oh, man, I am so happy for you. My Derek is still totally traumatised, as anyone would be, I guess, but my heart aches for him, he’s so lonely.”

Derek shuddered. “My life there sounds so awful. No family, no you, I can’t…I can’t even imagine what that would be like.”

“Wait…” Stiles flopped back onto his chair. “Does that mean Peter didn’t go nuts and start killing people?”

Derek’s jaw dropped. “Peter did what? Uncle Peter? My Uncle Peter, who can barely bring himself to scold the kids when they’re running wild?”

“How many Uncle Peter’s do you have?”

“Uh, just the one.”

“Okay, I think we’ve had enough of this for the time being,” his mom said. “Stiles, I think you should go and lie down. Derek, maybe you would sit with him for an hour? I’m going to talk to John.”

“And Deaton,” Stiles added. “He’s still the ‘go-to’ supernatural vet, right?”

“Yes,” she said, “and Deaton. Good call, Stiles. It's good to know some things don't change.”

Stiles squeezed Derek’s hand. “I’m not going to sleep though. I can’t risk waking up back in my own world. Not yet.”

His mum looked him over again. “This is your last chance to come clean that this is all some hoax and you just wanted the day off school.”

“Mom, really? Would I make up some story about you and Derek’s family being dead just for a day off school?”

“I guess not.” She sighed. “I would hope not.” She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “I’ll be back soon.”

“But, werewolves…that’s totally a thing, right?”

“Yes, Stiles, we know Derek and his family are werewolves. We knew that before you were born. Your father is the Sheriff, after all.”

“Right.” He turned to Derek. “Aren’t you supposed to like, keep a low profile and not tell anyone?”

“We would normally, but well, what with your dad, you know…”

And of course there would be something dark and nasty in this new perfect world. “No, I don’t know. What about my dad?” Derek looked at Stiles’ mom. “Is dad a wolf? Am I a wolf?”

“Of course not,” they said together. Stiles gave an initial sigh of relief. Not a wolf. 

“Then what, what is he?”

“He was a hunter, Stiles. Your family were hunters. It’s your dad who helps keep us safe, keeps us hidden from the big hunting families.”

“Like the Argents.”

His mother gasped. “How do you know that name, Stiles?”

“Alison. In my world, Alison moved to Beacon Hills with her family. Chris and…”

“Victoria,” his mom said.

“Yeah. But when I mentioned Alison to Scott this morning he didn’t seem to know who she was.”

“You spoke to Scott about this?” 

“Well, he was dating Alison, like totally head over heals in love with her, which…bit awkward what with the whole wolf thing and her dad being a hunter and all.”

His mom sat back down, and stared. “So you told Scott about werewolves?”

“I…Scott’s not a werewolf?” Stiles sat with that information for a moment, and his mom and Derek passed concerned looks between them. “I guess, if Peter didn’t go crazy, he wouldn’t have bitten him in the first place. Oh, my god, this is too much to take in.” He looked at Derek. “So why are you even with me, how are we together at all if not because of Scott being a werewolf?”

“Stiles, we’ve known each other since the fire. We’ve grown up together. And Scott, well, let’s just say he would never fall in love with a girl. He was in love with you, still is, if you ask me, but you broke up with him 18mths ago. A few months before we started dating.”

“But this morning, you said he hates me smelling of,” he glanced at his mom, “you know…”

“Yes, because he’s still in love with you and doesn’t like being reminded that you’re with me, not because he has heightened senses.”

“That’s why he didn’t want to hear that I woke up with you, because we used to date?" Stiles baulked. "Oh, that is so wrong. I'm all for a good bromance, but please. Ugh. So what about Isaac, and Erica?”

His mom placed a firm hand over his arm. “Stiles, just tell me you didn’t say anything to Scott about wolves.”

“No, no, I just said like, I don’t know, I thought I was still asleep. He cut me off when I mentioned Derek, and then ran off to meet Isaac. When I saw them kissing, I just turned around and came home. How do you know the Argents if they never moved to Beacon Hills?”

“We used to know them,” she said. “Back before your father left the hunting community to join law enforcement. We ran into them briefly after the Hale fire when Chris’s sister Kate was identified in the ruins of the house. She’d been working at the High School under a different name and had started a relationship with Derek’s sister, Laura.”

“Laura? In my world, it was with you, Derek.”

“Me? But I was like fourteen when the fire happened.”

“I know. It’s why I always told you it wasn’t your fault. At least Laura was spared the nightmares my Derek has, thinking he’s the only reason his family is dead…because he fell for Kate’s charms.”

“That’s…sick. It’s bad enough that she seduced Laura, and she was seventeen. God, I still remember it. My dad freaked out, put an end to it. We thought the fire was revenge for him splitting them up, that’s what Chris said. He said Kate had never operated as a hunter. That the family hadn’t allowed it because of her delicate mental state.”

Stiles let out a long sigh. “That may have been the case here, but in my world, she was one of the deadliest. She didn’t believe in the code and she got to you so she could slaughter one of the largest packs around.” Knowing Chris, and even more so Victoria, that was probably still the case here, they’d just figured out a way to cover it up to save the family name the humiliation.

They sat in silence for a while. Stiles was sure he’d given them far too much to think about. His own head was reeling from the new information. None of his friends were wolves. They hadn’t battled an insane Alpha, or hunters, or an Alpha pack. He looked up at Derek, Derek wouldn’t even be an Alpha if his family were still alive, and his eyes…his eyes would be golden. But what he really couldn’t get his head around was how, if this world so perfect compared to his own, had he ended up with Derek at all? Derek wasn’t lost and alone here, he was happy and social, he could have anyone, could be anywhere. Stiles had always thought the chemistry between him and his Derek, the sexual tension, Erica and Lydia used to tease him about, was because Derek had gotten to know Stiles over years of battling supernatural beasties, and having to constantly save each other’s lives. It didn’t make sense that they would be together without all of that throwing them into the fire and forging a deep bond of trust. Stiles didn’t have a clue what was going on, whether it was parallel dimensions, or alternate realities, but something in his gut was telling him that it was somehow linked to this one common denominator. His relationship with Derek. Or maybe, his relationships with everyone. With that thought firming up in his mind, he made a decision. “I think I’d like to speak to Deaton now.”

Derek stood abruptly, looking as though he’d come to a few conclusions of his own. “I’ll drive you.”


	4. Occasionally...

Deaton knew. Stiles could see it on his face as soon as they walked into the surgery. The slight lift in his eyebrows, the quizzical twist of his mouth. It angered and calmed him at the same time. Stiles shivered against an imagined chill. This body didn’t seem to have an ounce of fat on it, no insulation whatsoever. It’s not as though he carried extra weight in the other world, he’d always been a tad on the skinny side for his liking, but he wasn’t as lean, or defined as he was here. He’d taken a moment in the bathroom to admire his new physique, and a new work out ethic (beyond running for his life, and swinging baseball bats at supernatural creatures) was definitely on the to do list should he ever make it home. 

“So, what do we have here, or should I say _who_?” Deaton smiled, and Stiles wanted to smack him upside the head for being a know it all. 

“Who indeed,” said Stiles. 

“Maybe we should discuss this over a cup of tea.”

Deaton led them through to the back room and put the kettle on. Stiles wanted to confront him about what he knew, but he was currently more concerned with how Derek seemed to be struggling to control a shift. “Hey, Derek,” Stiles placed a hand on Derek’s arm as they sat together, “are you, like, super angry with me or something?”

“Not you.” Derek nodded towards Deaton. “Let’s just say the last meeting we had wasn’t exactly a pleasant one.”

Derek didn’t seem willing to share any further details, and Stiles sighed. At least now he could see more of a resemblance to his own Derek. The thought should be comforting, but it really wasn’t. If there was one thing he could change about his real world it would be the constant background noise of grinding teeth and having to drag every syllable out of Derek’s firmly closed mouth. 

They sat in silence, waiting for Deaton to make tea neither of them wanted, but at least Derek kept hold of Stiles’ hand. Deaton placed the cups on the table in front of them and took his seat. “Rather than start rambling on with information you neither want or need,” he said, looking between them. “Why don’t you tell me what brings you here today?”

“Really?” Derek said, before Stiles could open his mouth. “You know damn well why we’re here, and what we need to know. Why bother messing around? I’m so sick of your cryptics, and games." Well, that was something to save for a later date. Deaton, it seemed, was the same whichever reality he ended up in.

“Stiles?” Deaton gave him a long, hard stare. 

“Uh, what he said?”

“Okay, then. Off the top of my head, it looks to me as though you have slipped through a doorway in the time stream. It happens occasionally, usually in the dream state, and most often when someone—that would be you, Stiles—is having trouble accepting something in their own stream of events. They desperately want something to be true, but see no way to achieve it, so they slip into a reality where it already exists to see what it feels like.”

“It happens… _occasionally_ ,” Stiles said. “You mean people are, like, slipping in and out of alternate realities all the time?” Derek squeezed his hand.

“Well,” Deaton said, smiling. “Not _all_ people, Stiles. Just those with a capability to harness great magical power.” Stiles felt Derek’s attention snap to look at him. “You’ve used magic before, haven’t you, Stiles? In your other life. That’s how I knew, in case you were wondering,” he said to Derek. “Once a person has opened their mind to their ability to cast it changes their aura. Their smell too, I’m sure you picked that up straight away.”

“Yeah, I did.” Derek sounded interested now, rather than mad. “Everything was normal until he started to wake up. His scent shifted to something…fuller, richer, I guess.”

“Mmm, like an aged wine.” Deaton grinned. “It’s an extra maturity, or an extra shot of the true self. My guess is, that in Stiles’ _other_ world,” his use of air parentheses made Stiles want to punch him, “he has been called on to use his gifts a lot. As a matter of necessity rather than choice, maybe?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Stiles said, more than a little irritated with Deaton’s attitude. “We’ve all figured out my real life sucks. The question is how do I get back, and should I even try? I mean, what’s going on over there, has the supercool, naïve Stiles from this world ended up in a living hell, or is he just floating around here someone waiting for me to fuck the hell off so he can have his perfect life back?”

Derek and Deaton both raised an eyebrow at him. “What, perfect Stiles doesn’t curse every now and then?”

“You’re still perfect Stiles to me,” Derek said sulkily. In a different situation, Stiles would have cooed all over him for being so smooshy and sweet, but his focus stayed with Deaton. The man with all the answers. Or at least more of clue, which okay, that wasn’t difficult, but even so, he had information, and Stiles wanted it. Like yesterday.

“I fear it’s a little more complex than that.” Deaton pushed his cup of tea towards him. “Drink your tea, it’ll help to…untangle things.”

Great. Deaton was serving him up dodgy-mind-altering tea when he was already in a totally fucked up mind-altered state. This day was just getting better and better.


	5. Chapter 5

Stiles knocked back his tea, the bitter taste making him cough and splutter. He wanted to attack his tongue with sandpaper to get rid of the slimy residue, and the smell, ugh. It was a wonder he didn’t just bring it back up.

“Derek?” Deaton said, gesturing to Derek’s untouched cup on the table. 

“I think one of us should stay focused and in control.” Derek pushed the cup towards Deaton and sat back. Barely controlled rage bubbled so close to the surface it was almost tangible in the room. “Just because I trust your knowledge in this instance, it doesn’t mean I trust you.” 

“Fair enough.” Deaton’s sigh was heavy, but he didn’t seem overly surprised. Stiles tried to think whether the exchange between them was similar to that he’d see in his own world, but it was getting harder to keep his thoughts together. “How are you feeling Stiles?”

How was he feeling? That was a very good question, because Stiles wasn’t completely sure. His vision blurred and corrected, blurred and corrected. The room tilted alarmingly on its axis and then righted itself, and sounds were muffled then loud, muffled then loud. He could hear dogs barking and they sounded far away and right next to him at the same time. 

“Stiles?” Derek grabbed him as the world shifted again. Stiles could hear him, but he couldn’t pin point where he was, even though he could feel his hands on his arms. 

“Derek, are…are you still here?”

“What the hell did you give him?” Derek’s voice faded in and out, and Stiles tried to focus on the feel of his hands, the strength in those fingers. 

“Just something to allow him to access the parts of his mind he needs to find the answers you are both looking for. It will be over momentarily.”

Stiles could hear them, but couldn’t focus, couldn’t _see_ them, and then everything disappeared and he found himself in a white room, everything white, with a single chair in the centre. Seated on the chair was another Stiles, looking at him and smiling. “I’ve been waiting for you,” other Stiles said. “Come, take a seat.” Another chair appeared, and Stiles warily approached and sat down. “You have questions,” other Stiles said. “Time is short. Ask quickly.”

“Why?”

“Why are you here, or why is time short?”

“Why is this happening?”

“You know why.”

“Derek.”

“See, we’re as smart as people think we are.”

“Can I go home? Should I go home?”

“You can go home whenever you want. Whether you want to, well, that’s something even I can’t help you with.” As he spoke the room faded out and Stiles became aware of his bed, of voices around him, concerned, which sounded like his dad, worried, sounded like Derek, and angry, sounded like Scott. 

“This is your fault,” Scott shouted. 

“Scott,” his dad said, “your anger isn’t helping the situation. I need Derek to focus. He can’t do that while you’re shouting at him.”

“But he…”

“Scott, enough,” his dad said. “This is about Stiles, not you.”

“So like Scott,” Stiles said. “Everything always has to be about him, and how much he hates Derek.”

“Stiles?” Derek was looking down at him, a worried expression, a hand against Stiles’ face, and then he was gone and the white room came back into focus. 

“How was it?” other Stile said. “Did they realise you were there?”

“Derek did. What’s wrong with me?”

“We didn’t wake up. When you woke up in the other life. Only a few hours has passed, rather then the time you have had with Derek and Mom, but enough time that Derek came looking for you.”

“Not Scott or my dad then?”

“Do you want me to answer that?”

No, he didn’t, because all it would do was highlight how out of balance his life—real life—was. Of course his dad didn’t notice he hadn’t woken up, he was always at work. The only time he paid any attention to what Stiles was doing these days was if it was something wrong. And Scott, well, Scott hadn’t been there for Stiles since that night in the woods that changed everything. Scott was too angry and wrapped up in himself to notice Stiles missing for a couple of hours. Stiles huffed. Even the Scott in the alternate world hadn’t been in touch to see why he hadn’t been at school after seeing him that morning. In fact, none of his friends had even bothered to text to see where he was. The truth was a bastard, with hob-nailed boots kicking you in the balls. 

“What have you decided?” other Stiles asked. 

“That my friends are shit. I never realised how alone I really was.”

“Are you alone?” Stiles thought about that. Here, he had his mom, and Derek. In his real life, his mom was gone, but it was Derek at his bedside. Derek who had realised something was wrong. Derek who was risking being there in the room with his dad. And yet on the surface they appeared to be barely friends. 

“So this whole thing is some elaborate dream walk to make me realise that what, I’m fated to be with Derek?”

“Hardly. But it does make you think, doesn’t it?”

Stiles could hear Deaton’s voice. “The tea is wearing off,” Stiles said to other Stiles. “Is there anything else I should know?”

“You already know enough for what you need.” The room started to fade again. “Trust your heart, Stiles, it’s never steered us wrong.”

Derek was still holding on when he opened his eyes. “Thank, god,” he said, pulling Stiles into a full hug. “What happened?”

“Oh, I had a little chat with myself. Learned a few things. Visited home.” He shook his head to clear the last of the blurriness. 

“Ah,” Deaton smiled, “I did wonder if you would get a glimpse of what was going on there.”

“Yeah, basically, I’m not waking up.” 

“Your dad must be frantic,” Derek said, finally letting go and sitting back in his seat. “Did you find out why you’re here?”

“You were there.” 

“I am here.”

“No, you were there with me. It was you who noticed something was wrong. Not my dad, not my best friend. You. Why would you do that?”

Derek screwed up his face, as though Stiles was out of his mind. “When would I ever not care about you, Stiles? From where I’m sitting there isn’t a reality, or a parallel universe anywhere in which I wouldn’t fall for you.”

It was so matter-of-fact and heartfelt. Derek—this Derek—truly believed it. But should Stiles? It was a theory he needed to test. But he couldn’t do it here, he’d have to go back, and he’d have to know for sure in his own heart whether it was going to be something he wanted. Stiles looked at Deaton. “Thank you.”

“No, thank you.” He smiled. “And good luck.”

“What, that’s it?” Derek said following Stiles out to the car. 

“That’s it. I know what I have to do.”

“And when are you going to fill me in?”

“You’re going to take me home so I can spend the evening with you, and my mom and dad. Then you’re going to take me to bed and remind me why we are so perfect together.”

“But…”

“Then I’m going to fall asleep and slip back into my world, where I’m going to make the other Derek mine, and you are going to get back your Stiles and live happily ever after.”

“But what if I want you to stay?”

Stiles smiled. “I’m not your Stiles, and you aren’t my Derek. But you’re right, I think we’re always together somewhere. And I’d like to go home and make it happen in my world.” He took hold of Derek’s hand. “I didn’t think I could. Didn’t’ think you would be interested in some stupid kid with a crush.” He put his hand up to stop Derek interrupting. “But I’m ready to try. Because I’m not just a stupid kid.” He smiled. “And this isn’t a crush.” He placed a chaste kiss on Derek’s lips and his heart skipped at the small sound that escaped from Derek. “Come on,” Stiles said, opening the car door. “Let’s go eat.”


End file.
